He Remembered
by North American Scum
Summary: Darren remembers how a relationship grows. Evra/Darren. Angsty Schmoop.


Author's Note: This is a little ficlet that I felt compelled to write because most of the slash for the Cirque du Freak kind of blows (pun fully intended. I was going for a disjointed "snapshots" feel, but I hope I didn't go overboard. AU in an effort not to perv on twelve year olds.

Disclaimer: This does not belong to me. Although it would be pretty entertaining if Darren Shan wrote homoerotic fanfiction about his own characters and posted it online.

Darren knew that the whole "half vampire" thing pretty much negated any possibility of him having a truly normal love life. He just had to look at the whole Debbie thing (he had to leave her on _Christmas_) and the apparent state of Mr. Crepsley's romantic prospects (that is, nonexistent). But he hadn't known it would turn out like this; that he would grow to love a certain snake boy from the Cirque Du Freak, or even that he, as he old friends would say, preferred the cock.

He remembered when he first saw Evra. Yeah, it seemed like a cliché, but somehow the image of the "snake boy," still nameless, was burned into Darren's mind the instant he saw him. It hadn't seemed like attraction (at least not then), but maybe more like fascinated. Actually, how could he not be fascinated? It was pretty damn fascinating that someone could almost be both human and snake at the same time, that they could have a face that was downright handsome (and he said that in a completely heterosexual way), yet covered in scales that probably terrified the fainthearted. In fact Darren wondered what his life was like before he joined the show, about his personality and past. Darren let his curiosity explain away his enthrallment.

He remembered when he first met Evra. Of course, he had seen him before, but the experience of actually speaking to him had been more striking. Darren was still shaken from the past months, reluctant to drink blood and horribly insecure, but he still managed to find a friend in Evra. Maybe, he thought, that doing chores around the Cirque was almost like being a normal boy wandering around town, without a care in the world, with his buddy. And in all honestly, he wouldn't have picked a different buddy to have. Evra was funny (because, at twelve, there is truly nothing funnier than sticking your tongue up your nose), loyal and almost anything else he wanted in a friend (and it was nice to know he could even have a friend). Having Evra insulated him from the misery that threatened to overtake him in those early days of vampirism. Even through days that were like something out of a horror novel, he had someone who he could talk to, banter and joke with, and that, Darren thought, gave them a bond that wasn't quite like that he had with any other friend.

He remembered the days they spent together in Mr. Crepsley's city. At first, together all day, then together less and less, as Debbie became a distraction. Of course, his girlfriend was a distraction, why should he not be able to date? However, he still found himself thinking about Evra, worrying about him in fact. He was alone all day, while Darren went around town. That must have well, sucked. Still he was loathe to admit that he was almost excited for the nights of sneaking around town to follow his mentor, just to spend the time with the snake boy.

He remembered the feeling that he got upon finding out that Murlough had escaped with Evra- terrified, worried, dreadful. He felt a sense of urgency, a sense that things would not be Right until and unless he found Evra. And then relief and joy.

He remembered the first time they kissed, perhaps the clearest of all. It wasn't like a movie kiss, one that ends a movie with an ending where everyone lives happily ever after, for obvious reasons, but it suited them. Their Kiss was more of a gateway than a finale. It was quick, a peck on the lips, dominated more my nervousness than anything else. But it led to more kisses. A deep kiss, tongue to tongue, Darren stroking a scaled neck to remind him exactly who he was with. A stolen kiss, between chores in the cirque, surreptitiousness adding to the excitement. An intense kiss, hard and fast and not choreographed, but somehow beautiful in its pure neediness. Kisses down a neck, over scars, sweeping across a collar bone with an especially long tongue, leaving small red marks on a pale body, while hands roam, and senses are overcome by just _everything_. A slow kiss, bathed in a post orgasmic glow, lazy, but not needing to be anything else. A goodbye kiss, because Darren didn't know when he would be back, the last kiss.

He remembered being back, to see Evra with Merla, in love. Darren knew it wasn't betrayal, but that didn't keep it from feeling that way- cold and empty.

He remembered what it was like to loose someone.


End file.
